Demon of the Night
by Masked Obsession
Summary: After a series of brutal murders occur and men begin disappearing around Gotham City, Barbara Gordon begins her own investigation into who- or what- is behind these slayings. However, as she gets closer to the truth she becomes entangled in a web of mystery, the supernatural, and pure evil. [A completely edited and revised version of the original.]
1. Dionaea Muscipula

When dusk crept into Gotham City each night, it was like a pair of old lovers embracing each other after years apart. What had been lost had once again been found. It was the perfect match and the city seemed to know that.

A fog would roll in from the surrounding harbor, spreading its swirling fingers of white over the mass of skyscrapers. The bleak, Gothic buildings grew even darker in the mist and their stature loomed even larger.

When night approached, the city would finally come to life. Gotham citizens would stay out through the late hours until the first light of day could be seen. Despite the city's notorious reputation, adults and children alike believed harm could never fall upon them. That always happened to someone else, someone less fortunate.

Across the city, neon signs switched on, painting the streets with their iridescent glow. Just like the blinking sign at the drive-thru was doing now.

Almost immediately, rowdy teenagers started to drive up in their overstuffed cars. Joking and laughing, some hopped out of their cars to dance to the rock 'n' roll blaring across the parking lot.

They were so immersed in their music and dancing they failed to notice the predator watching from the shadows.

Her eyes glowed a bright green at the sight of the delicious flesh pumping with young blood. But as she watched the teens longer, the hunger suddenly left her eyes once the music shifted to a slow, romantic doo-wop.

What replaced it almost resembled tenderness.

From behind, her ears picked up the sound of an approaching motorcycle. Shrinking back into the shrubs, the predator observed the rider park its motorcycle behind the drive-thru and start walking towards the front. She guessed it was just another teenager heading to hang out with their friends until it paused and turned its helmeted head towards the shadows.

 _They were looking directly at where the predator was hiding._

Immediately spiraling into a panic, she wondered how the hell a human could sense her. It was impossible.

Torn between attacking or fleeing, the predator remained at a standstill as the human started to approach the forestry. Twigs and leaves crunched underneath their slow, deliberate footsteps, growing louder with each passing second. They were only a few feet away when she finally concluded fleeing would be the better option, not wanting to draw attention from the nearby drive-in.

But then the rider spoke, making her freeze in place. "Is it you?"

A cold sensation she hadn't felt in ages washed over her.

"It's a good thing I arrived when I did." The rider swiftly pulled out a gun and aimed it at the hidden figure. "These poor rug rats would have been torn to shreds if I hadn't."

"...So it's true. I didn't think you would show up," the predator finally said in a stiff voice.

"How could I ever turn down a lady?" The rider tucked his gun back in his jacket. "Especially one I have grown so fond of."

The predator remained silent at this, letting the rider to continue talking. "I imagined this reunion a little differently in my head. I thought you would run into my arms."

"Come into the shadows then. I'm not going to reveal myself out there." She retreated back into the bushes until they were completely bathed in darkness. No light penetrated through the vast rows of trees surrounding them. The music had become faint in the background and the voices had long vanished.

"And by the way, I never imagined you riding up in a motorcycle, but here we are." The predator scowled, putting her hand on her hip.

"Times have changed. We have changed. You most of all." The rider gave a low chuckle.

She lost the last shred of composure at this. To be so painfully reminded of her condition was too much. "I know!"

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. You don't have to apologize. I'm aware of what I am."

"I didn't mean it in the obvious, well, kinda, but I mostly meant you look _sadder._ You look unhappy." The rider reached out his arm, attempting to touch the woman in front of him.

She instantly moved to the side, stepping out of his reach.

"I thought I would come to terms with it by now. _He_ promised I would. But every day, I tell myself tonight I will end it. For the past thirty years, I've told myself that yet I'm still here," She seethed.

"Then why did you allow this?" The rider cocked his head. "You saw what it led to."

"You think I allowed this?! You think I chose this?!" She gestured to her pale, lanky body. "Like the others?!"

"I don't know! I wasn't there! Or did you somehow forget that?"

She sighed an airless breath, letting her rage pass. "No. I have not. No one has."

He scoffed at her. "Tell me, then. From the beginning. I want to know everything. Starting that night, thirty years ago, when we first met."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"Alright," she answered after a long pause. "I will tell you my story. You are my last friend here, after all. And someone needs to know the truth."

So she began her long tale filled with thirty years worth of tragedy, horror, and above all, death.


	2. Darlingtonia Californica

The echoes of heavy footsteps hurrying past her room were what awoke Barbara Gordon from her deep slumber.

She sat up, listening to the frantic footsteps descend down the stairs. Whatever was happening she wanted to know.

Not bothering to grab her glasses from her nightstand, Barbara pushed herself off the bed half-blind. Stumbling out of the room, the wooden floorboards underneath nipped at her bare feet. She reached the stairwell and grabbed onto the rail, taking careful steps as she went down.

She had only made it halfway down the stairs when a dark and blurred figure appeared at the front door.

"Dad?" Barbara called out to the silhouette as it threw a coat over itself.

The figure paused. "Barbara? What are you doing up already?"

"I heard your footsteps- What's going on?" She took a few more steps downwards, squinting at her dad.

"I just got a call from the police station." He gave a tired sigh before continuing. "A body turned up in an alley."

"Oh, so nothing new?" Barbara knew how crime-ridden the city had become in recent years. Bodies turning up in alleys weren't exactly a unique occurrence and hadn't been for quite a while.

The police commissioner remained silent for a few seconds, shifting on his feet.

"This body was drained of all its blood and the head was torn clean off."

Barbara's eyes widened and her hand gripped on tighter to the railing. Her father seemed just as disturbed by it as well, though his sentiments were more subtle.

"I have to go now, Barbara. I'll be back later tonight before the party." His gruff voice broke the silence as he opened the door and stepped out into the dark. A blast of the fall air entered the house, sending shivers up the young woman's spine before the door slammed shut.

Barbara stood motionless on the stairwell, still processing what she had just heard. The temperature in the air seemed to grow colder. The entryway seemed darker than before. And the house had never felt lonelier.

She started the walk back to her room, figuring that she should get some more sleep before school started.

If she could get any sleep at all after hearing this.

Throwing herself on the bed, Barbara flung the warm covers over her and rolled to the side of the nightstand. She had to practically press her nose against the clock as she eyed the two hands.

It was 4:59. She had about an hour and a half longer of sleep.

With an audible sigh, she collapsed back on her pillow. As she tried forcing her eyes shut, the realization of what today was suddenly struck her.

Today was her birthday and it was already off to a miserable start.

Her dad had left, not even wishing her a happy birthday. And she wasn't naïve or optimistic enough to know that the day wouldn't improve at school.

The party this evening didn't look much brighter either. A twinge of ungratefulness struck her heart for thinking this. Her dad had ensured this party would be extravagant, having reserved it at the most stylish hotel in Gotham.

However, that didn't make up for the fact she did not have many friends that would attend. The guest list included more of her father's friends and acquaintances than her own.

"Well, Barbara, isn't tonight going to be exciting?" She muttered, finally closing her eyes.

* * *

School went just as expected for Barbara.

Hardly anyone had told her happy birthday just like hardly anyone noticed her. Barbara was ninety-nine percent sure the girls at the Gotham Academy for Girls only knew she existed because she was one of the top students there.

Continuing to muse on these thoughts on her walk home, she kept her gaze lowered on the trampled leaves below. It wasn't until the conversation from a pair of women ahead of her caught her attention that she looked up.

The two women were discussing the new movie, _Alice in Wonderland._ As she listened to their conversation with curiosity, Barbara's hand drifted to her long red hair. The image of herself with short, curled tresses like theirs crossed her mind, bringing an eager smile to her lips. However, her smile soon turned to a frown knowing that her dad would never allow her to style her hair that way.

She passed a storefront window, stealing a glance of her reflection. Dissatisfied with the plain appearance that stared back at her, her frown shifted into a full-on scowl.

But it was no matter. Tonight she wouldn't look so bookish. Tonight she would look beautiful with her curled hair and purple ball gown.

The smile once again returned to her lips.

With a skip in her walk, the journey home was not as long and tedious like it usually was. She was so caught up with her thoughts that she nearly passed her home. She felt her face grow hot as she made a sharp U-turn, relieved that no one else witnessed this embarrassing mistake.

No one was home either.

"Typical," she murmured, closing the door behind her and locking it.

Barbara immediately relieved her shoulders of her backpack, tossing it beside the door. Anxious to start getting ready, she scrambled up the stairs to her room. No one was here to disturb her, which only a few hours earlier would have made her uneasy. But the murder was far from her mind now. She had a party to focus on.

With her dress and makeup bag in hand, she raced to the bathroom to begin her work.

* * *

"Sorry, I'm late, Barbara. I didn't expect this investigation to take this long!" James stepped through the front door, glancing at his watch. Hearing no answer from his daughter, he started up the stairs, calling to her again. "Barbara? Are you ready?"

As if on cue, Barbara emerged in her violet gown, gliding down the staircase towards her father. Her red curls bounced from behind her and her heels clicked across the wood.

"Oh, honey. You look beautiful," James responded softly, extending his hand to her.

"Thanks, Dad," Barbara grinned, squinting her green eyes.

He frowned. "Barbara, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Nope! I don't think so," She answered quickly, trying to move past her father.

He pressed his hand against her shoulder, stopping her from going any further. "Nice try. Go put on your glasses."

"But Dad, they'll ruin the whole dress!" She pouted.

"Don't be ridiculous, Barbara," he said before going upstairs to change. She knew there was no point arguing. His demand was final. It was always that way.

Back in her room, she studied herself in the mirror with the glasses on. A part of her wanted to just take off the glasses and hurl them out the window. She didn't mind if she was blind the whole night. It would be better than looking like a total bookworm.

"I'm not being ridiculous, dad. I look ridiculous," she huffed.

Her dad suddenly appeared in the doorway. "C'mon, we're leaving."

"Hey, you don't look too bad yourself." She smirked. "I doubt anyone will be able to tell you were investigating a decapita-"

"No more mention of that." He silenced her, giving her a familiar glare.

"Yeah, right." Barbara pressed her lips together tightly as they walked out the front door.

The tension in the car was uncomfortable, almost suffocating for Barbara. She sat with her head turned towards the right, staring out of the window with a dejected expression.

"Honey, I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about it anymore. It's all I've thought and talked about today. And tonight is all about having a good time. Tonight is for you." He finally spoke up after several minutes of silence.

"It's alright, dad."

He shifted his gaze from the road ahead. "Look in the glove compartment. There's something there for you."

She did so, unlocking the lid and pulling out a square, wooden box. She opened it, revealing a pearl necklace with a matching hand-chain and headband.

"Dad! This-This is beautiful! You didn't have to- This party was more than enough," Barbara cried out, unable to take her eyes off the jewelry.

"I know, but this birthday is different. I thought I couldn't have you showing up without looking like a proper woman." He smiled back at her as he pulled up to their destination.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Barbara leaned in, giving her dad a peck on the cheek.

Putting on the jewelry, Barbara stepped out into the foggy night as her dad held open the door. She grabbed onto his hand, giving it an excited squeeze.

Her jaw dropped at the scale and grandeur of the building in front of her. The combination of the dazzling bright lights and the dozens of people walking in and out of the hotel were enough to give her a rush of adrenaline. She was convinced this couldn't be real. It must have all been a dream.

Trying her best to look as proper as possible, Barbara strode up the front steps with her hand still clutched in her father's. Though her posture was upright and her head held high, her eyes wanted to wander and drink in everything in front of them.

But she could tell that the only thing on her dad's mind was getting to the ballroom. He had taken the lead and was practically tugging her through the crowded lobby.

"We're not too late, are we?" Barbara glanced at him.

"Just a few minutes," James responded, checking his watch.

As confirmed upon their arrival, there were already some people by the doors, waiting to be let into the ballroom.

"Commissioner Gordon, I was wondering when you would get here," Detective Bullock stepped forward to greet his friend. "I thought maybe the case had upset you-"

"No, no, it was the traffic," James replied tensely, gesturing his head to Barbara.

"Oh, right. Happy birthday, Barbara!" The detective handed her a small gift box.

"Thank you, Mr. Bullock." Barbara smiled at the man as she took the package.

The doors were abruptly opened by two hotel employees much to the cheer of the guests and the Gordons.

Barbara's eyes widened in amazement as she stepped forward into the grand ballroom filled with glittering decorations. The glitzy art-deco decor was enough to take her breath away. From the crystal chandelier that hung overhead to the marble pillars that lined the room, it was all so beautiful. The soft tune of a piano that filled the room only made the scene even more magical.

"I can't believe this is all for me! This is something fit for a millionaire," Barbara blurted out, earning a chuckle from James. But before he could say anything, someone else stepped in.

"Or maybe fit for a queen?" A police officer by the name of Jason Bard smirked.

"Officer Bard, it's a pleasure to see you here," James acknowledged warmly.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." Officer Bard grinned before turning his attention to the girl next to him. "Happy birthday, Barbara. You look absolutely stunning."

"Uh, thanks, Officer Bard." Barbara offered a bemused smile.

"Would you like to dance? The dance floor's empty right now, which makes it the perfect opportunity to dance." He held out his hand.

"Not right now. I'd rather sit down and get something to drink and eat," She answered, looking to an empty table nearby.

"Of course, the night's still young. We can dance later." He wrapped his hand around hers. "Don't worry, Commissioner. I'll take good care of her."

"You two have fun." James seemed unfazed by this display and actually appeared to be encouraging Officer Bard to accompany his daughter. This only confused Barbara, thinking that this was out of character for the detective. He had always been overprotective of her, so why the sudden change?

Tugging Barbara away from her father and his associates, Officer Bard guided her to a table near the dance floor. "So you're finally an adult now."

"It would seem like it," Barbara replied coolly.

"I always knew you would grow up to be a beautiful girl." His hand reached across the table towards her's, but she moved it back out of his grasp.

"I think you're a little too old for me." Barbara's lips turned upward into a smug grin.

"I'm only twenty-two." He grinned back.

"Well, why don't you go with them?" Barbara gestured towards a nearby table filled with other police officers. "They look like they're having more fun. Plus, they have champagne."

"How could I leave the birthday girl alone? What kind of guest would I be?"

"I doubt you'd want to be with someone who could only drink soda for the rest of the night."

"Not even a little sip?" He suggested.

"I'll be fine, Officer Bard." She shook her head, already getting out of her chair.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Barbara? Call me Jason. You make me sound old with this 'Officer Bard' nonsense." He rose to his feet as well, pushing his chair in.

"That's the point." Barbara smirked. The officer must have been taken back by this comment as he was unable to respond with a quip of his own. A shrill whistle from nearby drew his attention and soon he was over with his partners, laughing and drinking.

The relief of being free of the pushy officer did not last long for Barbara once she realized she was to be all alone for the remainder of the party.

Maybe bad company was better than no company.

As she contemplated this thought at the beverage table, she turned her head to look for her father. At one of the tables near the front doors towards the dessert table, he sat there talking to someone.

A blonde woman.

She recognized this woman to be one of the few female detectives in Gotham.

 _Sarah Essen._

Their conversation looked so intimate that Barbara dared not to interrupt it. Maybe a little too close and personal for her liking.

She turned her head to the side to avoid the sneer she was probably giving the pair. Her gaze fell on the crowd of women surrounding a tall man in the center, and she couldn't help but be intrigued by this spectacle. The women were making fools of themselves, talking and laughing in obnoxious voices as they all vied for the attention of this man.

All of a sudden, the man's eyes shifted to meet Barbara's. Their cold, blue stare seemed to pierce through her, almost as if they were looking into her very soul.

She had never felt so exposed.

Uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed, Barbara quickly walked away from the table with her soda in hand. It wasn't until she sat back down at her lonesome table did she recognize who the man was.

Bruce Wayne.

She felt stupid for not identifying him sooner. Her awareness of things wasn't usually this slow; she knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was. Owner of Wayne Enterprises. Gotham's most elite billionaire. Son of the murdered Thomas and Martha Wayne.

But whether it was the humid room or other distractions, her perception skills seemed to be off. Heaving an irritated sigh, she remembered she had forgotten to get food due to all this commotion. She looked up and saw that Mr. Wayne was still staring at her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Pushing back her chair to avoid his gaze, Barbara spun around and almost bumped into a young teenage boy. She startled back at his appearance, hitting the end of the table with her thin legs.

The boy looked at her with intense green eyes, seeming to pale as well.

"Hi.." Barbara gave an awkward smile.

The boy's eyes darted to the side seemingly at a loss for words.

"I'm going to get some food... You want to come?" She suggested, wondering what was the matter with this boy.

She started to walk in that direction, glancing back to see if the boy was following her.

He was.

She began placing some sandwiches and deviled eggs on her plate, unsure what to say to the boy.

"You know, you can get some too," she said, seeing he was just standing there.

"I'm not hungry." The growl his stomach made indicated otherwise.

"It tastes a lot better than it looks- or smells." She laughed at his absolutely mortified face. The boy looked tempted by the food, but he again refused.

"So what's your name?" Barbara asked as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"Jason. Jason Todd." His face seemed to match the shade of a sheet of paper. There also seemed to be a weird odor emitting from him. Barbara wanted to ask if it was indeed coming from him, but figured it would be offensive if she did.

"My name's Barbara Gordon."

"How are you enjoying your party?"

"It's alright. Kind of boring. There's no one to talk to. But I guess you're here to change that." Her smile lit up with genuine hope.

"Yeah... I suppose so." Jason slowly returned her smile.

"Let's go back to the table then." Barbara started heading back with her plate in hand. "So how do you know my dad?"

"Excuse me?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I sure don't know you. So you must know my dad somehow to be here."

"Oh, no I don't know your dad." Jason chuckled, seeming to grow more at ease. " I don't know anyone at this party really. I'm actually here with Bru-"

He paused as he turned his head in the direction of the man he was going to point out. A shadow of horror crossed his face, which Barbara did not fail to notice.

"Are you okay-" Barbara began to question before Jason immediately sprung up from his chair.

Barbara's eyes followed Jason as he went up to greet an older and taller young man. He grabbed onto this new stranger's wrist, leading him towards her.

He had the same penetrating, frosty blue stare that she encountered earlier. However, the difference here was that his gaze seemed friendly and not at all laced with the menace of Mr. Wayne's.

"Barbara, this is my brother. Richard Grayson." Jason grimaced, pointing to a younger-looking version of Bruce Waye.

"Of course. You two look very similar." Barbara stood up to properly introduce herself. "I'm Barbara."

"Yes, I know who you are." Richard grabbed her hand to shake it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You too..." Barbara released her hand from his. It was unbearably cold. "Wait, you two have different last names. Are you half brothers or-"

"We're adopted brothers," Richard answered with a smile.

"Like I was saying before, I- _We_ came with Bruce Wayne," Jason interjected.

"Hm, I never knew Mr. Wayne had children. Much less adopted ones." Barbara glanced between the two of them.

"Yes, well he likes to keep his private life very hidden," Richard snickered, stealing a glance towards Jason.

"That's for certain." Jason rolled his eyes.

"Jay, why don't you go back with dad for a while?" Richard raised his eyebrows.

Jason glared up at his brother, muttering something underneath his breath as he left.

"You didn't have to get rid of him, you know. I was enjoying his company." Barbara folded her arms over her chest.

"It was time for some grown-up talk." Richard leaned in closer to her. The same strange odor seemed to be emitting from him as well.

"Grown-up talk? Oh, please. You're hardly older than sixteen." Barbara moved away from him, taking a sip from her drink. She was beginning to dislike this guy and the snarky attitude that came with him.

"You'd be surprised at how _mature_ I am." Richard continued.

She nearly choked on her soda. "That was unbelievably corny. You should go talk to my friend, Officer Bard. You two would get along well with your ridiculous comments."

Richard laughed alongside her despite he was the butt of the joke. "I would prefer to talk with you. Would you care to dance? We could talk and get to know each other more."

"You truly are Mr. Wayne's son." She finished her drink. "But I must refuse. I am going to refill my drink instead."

"And how am I his son?" Richard followed closely behind the girl.

"You live up to his... womanizing reputation."

"We couldn't be more different in that regard. You mistake me for someone else." Richard watched as she refilled her soda. "So now shall we dance?"

"I don't think so. Plus that woman seems to be hogging the dance floor. Whoever she is." Barbara gestured towards the lively woman with blonde hair tied into pigtails, something that was much too young for someone her age. She was dancing between several police officers while calling for another woman to join her flamboyant flash mob. Her curly-haired friend only ignored her, watching the scene with clear boredom.

"We could always tell her to move," Richard proposed.

Barbara was about to respond with another refusal when she felt a sudden chill come over her. She looked towards her left and saw two glares glowing at her and Richard from the dark corner. Alarmed, she spilled her soda on the front of her dress.

"Shi-"

"Language," Richard interrupted, looking at the spill.

"This is just what I needed right now," Barbara groaned.

"Here, let me help." He grabbed a couple of napkins from nearby and started dabbing at the stain.

"No, no. I got it. I'll just clean up in the ladies' room. Excuse me." Frustrated, Barbara pushed past Richard and the crowd of strangers at her birthday party, cursing herself for acting like such a clown.

"What the hell is wrong with me today?" Barbara exclaimed as she pushed the bathroom door wide open. Staring at her reflection, she shook her head at the face that gazed back at her.

As she turned on the faucet, she heard the sound of the bathroom door slowly open and shut. Figuring it was just another woman in need of the restroom, she grabbed a paper towel and started to clean the stain. However, a strong, familiar odor filled her nostrils, causing her to turn around sharply.

"Richard! What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to make sure everything was alright. I would hate for your beautiful dress to be ruined," he assured, eyeing the towel in her hand.

"Thanks, but I almost have it out." She turned her back towards him and continued scrubbing the dress, likely doing more harm than good. "You can leave now."

Perhaps if Barbara hadn't been so focused on the dress she would have seen Richard take a few soundless steps closer to her. Perhaps if she would have looked in the bathroom mirror she would have seen his mouth open, revealing a pair of sharp and protruding fangs. And perhaps if she would have been sensed the odor growing stronger as he approached, she would have witnessed blood fill the whites of his eyes and surround his blue irises.

"Barbara! Barbara!" An adolescent voice yelled from the other side of the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Jason!" Barbara put down the towel. "What is it?!"

"Your dad's looking for you!"

Satisfied with her work, Barbara spun around to see a solemn Richard a few inches away from her.

"Didn't I tell you to leave?" Barbara frowned, pushing past the young man. "You shouldn't be in here. It- It looks improper."

She didn't wait for an answer before opening the door, expecting to see a concerned Jason Todd on the outside. But that wasn't what awaited her.

No one was on the other side.

Confused, Barbara called out for Jason in the vacant hallway, believing he was just hiding somewhere.

The sudden creak and slam of the bathroom door made her turn, startling her. Nudging the door open, she peered in through the crack to see if Jason had entered behind her back.

But the slow drip of the faucet was all that could be found.


	3. Drosera Rotundifolia

The scenes of the previous night preoccupied the girl's mind as she sat down for breakfast. Everything had played out so strange, so surreal, that she was unsure if it had really happened.

But despite the night being dreamlike and almost cliché, she knew that this was her reality. She was now an adult even if she felt the furthest thing from it.

"Did you enjoy your party?" Her father asked from across the table, snapping Barbara out of her thoughts.

"Hmm. I'd give it 4 stars out of 5." She grinned, taking a sip from her coffee mug.

"That's a little harsh." Her dad teased back.

"I would have given it higher if I didn't have to drink soda all night." The girl shrugged.

"Then, I am fine with that rating." He chuckled.

"Oh, I also was abandoned. Did you know Bruce Wayne had any sons?" Barbara reached across the table for the scattered newspaper.

"Sons? Oh, he's mentioned one before. But I never thought he had more than one. They're adopted, correct?"

"That's what they told me." She glanced down at the newspaper headlines: **Wayne Enterprise Employee Found Gruesomely Murdered.**

With a picture of the man's covered body included.

"I'm surprised there's no picture of the man's _uncovered body_ in here," Barbara stated dryly.

"I am too. The media has no sense of decency or ethics anymore. Thankfully we were able to cover the body before the journalists got there," James admitted with a sigh.

Continuing to read the paper, Barbara felt her father's eyes lingering on her. She kept reading, trying to ignore his curious gaze.

"So why did you want to know about Mr. Wayne's sons?" James peered up at her through the top of his glasses.

"Oh.. Well, you know, they were just a little strange." Barbara remained intentionally vague on this answer, knowing where her dad would take this discussion. And she sure didn't want to reveal everything that happened.

"In what way?"

"Just strange," She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "Haven't you gotten that vibe from Mr. Wayne as well?"

"No, not at all. Barbara. What are you trying to get at? You're not explaining yourself." Her father set down his mug.

Barbara's mouth dropped open as her mind raced to find the words. None were coming to her. They were all stuck in her throat. "I-"

But before she could find herself in the middle of an embarrassing situation, the phone rang from the other side of the kitchen. As James went to answer it, Barbara mouthed a silent thank you to whoever had made that phone call.

"Hello? Yes. _Again?_ Exactly the same? Another man? Okay, I'll be right there." James hung up the phone.

"What-" She started to say before James cut her off.

"Another murder."

Barbara blinked, bringing the mug closer to her. "Another one?"

"I'll be home late again tonight. Maybe even later. No need to wait up for me." James called out, already heading for the front door. "And be sure to stop by the library!"

"Oh, right. That's today," She muttered, completely forgetting that she had made a commitment to start volunteering today. "Just what the hell is happening in this city?" She took another sip of her now lukewarm coffee.

"I sure do miss Chicago." She paused to look out the kitchen window, thinking how she much preferred "The Windy City" over what she termed "The Foggy City."

"But it's not like she misses me," Barbara concluded, crumpling the newspaper in frustration.

* * *

The library was located in Midtown, a good distance from her house. The trolley would take her to the entrance of Robinson Park and then she would have to cut across the park to get to the library. The library was peculiarly located within the park, near the west edge. From there, one could see the Gotham City Police Department Headquarters right across the street.

As well as the newly refurbished Wayne Tower.

Once she arrived at the park, she hopped off the trolley, checking her watch for the time. It was 10:30.

She was right on time.

A smile crossed her lips as she tossed her hair behind her neck. Her newly-gifted earrings from Detective Bullock sparkled, reflecting the hazy sun from above.

However, her smile instantly fell when she stepped foot into the park's entrance. To the left side of the wide path was a cell of parked police cars with their respective officers accompanying them. They had blocked off that area and forbade the concerned crowd from entering. Barbara's eyes shifted from the mass to the row of trees marked with police tape. Taking a few steps closer, she searched for her dad among the many investigators.

Her eyes landed on him and she immediately stopped in her tracks. He was beside Detective Bullock and Detective Essen, all three of their faces stern and grave.

Knowing it was time for her to leave before he saw her, she turned on her heel only to be stopped by Officer Bard.

"Barbara? What are you doing here?" His eyes widened at the sight of her. "Does your dad know you're here?"

"No, and I intend to keep it that way. Good luck with the investigation." She walked off, not allowing him the chance to respond. However, James had caught sight of his daughter as her back was turned.

The walk around the park had severely delayed her. Robinson Park was a huge park and even with a brisk walk, Barbara arrived at the library over half an hour later.

"I'm here to volunteer," She stated breathlessly to the elderly librarian at the Information desk.

"Oh, Barbara Gordon? I'm so delighted you're here. I've been waiting for you." The librarian beamed. "I was becoming concerned you weren't going to show."

"I apologize for being late. The-The entrance was blocked off because of the murder and I had to walk around." Barbara had finally regained her breath.

"Such a horrid thing." The woman shook her head.

"Yes. I didn't know it happened so close," Barbara said this more to herself than to the other woman.

"It's very frightening to think about. But this city has become so sinful and godless of late that it's not surprising. And the police sure aren't helping."

Barbara pretended not to be insulted by this comment, keeping her smile on her face as she nodded.

"Well, there's no use wasting time on this anymore. I have plenty of assignments for you. No one has volunteered here in years, so I'm very grateful you're here." The librarian rose to her feet, motioning for the girl to follow her. She led her to a circulation desk piled with books both old and new.

"I know this might take a while, but if you could organize these as much as possible that will be fine." The librarian wrung her hands.

"No, no, it's fine. I can stay as long as possible," Barbara assured.

"Oh, thank you so much. You don't know how much I appreciate this," The woman was practically weeping. "It's so difficult keeping track of everything alone and-"

"It's not that big of a problem," Barbara smiled sheepishly. "That's why I am here."

Just as she said this, a pile of books came tumbling to the floor.

* * *

"Barbara, honey, I'm closing up now!" The librarian, whose name Barbara came to learn as Isabella Kringle, called out a few hours later.

"Alright!" Barbara appeared from the back of the library covered in dust.

"You sure were working hard, Barbara." The woman chuckled, gesturing to the girl's disheveled hair.

"What? Oh!" Barbara felt her hair and frantically tried to smooth it down.

"Go clean yourself up in the washroom, dear." Mrs. Kringle smiled as Barbara hurried off to the restroom.

A few minutes later when Barbara reappeared, the woman was waiting for her by the front doors. "You do have someone to take you home, correct?" Her eyes filled with concern.

"Um, no. I don't. I was just going to walk home-"

"No, no, let me call a cab for you. A young lady shouldn't be walking home this late _alone._ You can ride along in the cab with me." Mrs. Kringle started to dig around in her purse for extra money, but Barbara stopped her.

"Mrs. Kringle, thank you, but I'll be okay. I've walked the Gotham streets at night several times before."

"But with these murders and crime-"

"Mrs. Kringle, I appreciate it. I do, but don't worry about it." Barbara led her outside of the building. "I'll be fine."

"A-Alright, please get home safely." The woman fretted as her own cab pulled up to the curb.

"I will!" Barbara opened the cab door for her. "I'll see you tomorrow," She waved goodbye to the woman as the taxi drove off, disappearing around a corner.

Barbara knew that there would be plenty of people and traffic on a Saturday night, meaning any potential danger she faced was reduced. Despite these murders, she caught onto the fact that the deceased had been male. There was no doubt in her mind this was some sort of serial killer who preferred their victims to be men.

A sudden gleam of blue light on the pavement made her turn around and look up at the tower that displayed it. The Wayne Tower with its titular name and "W" shone atop the building, just below the glass dome.

Even from where she stood, she could see the hideous gargoyles that lined the building.

"Not only is he creepy, but his building is too." Barbara frowned at the ominous tower that was meant to serve as a landmark for the city. "It doesn't even look like it was renovated. It still looks as Gothic as ever. With the addition of electricity."

She couldn't help but smile at her own joke as she stepped out of the eerie glow, moving towards the dimly lit park.

It really was corny.

The park was not empty, which partially relieved Barbara though she would never fully admit it. Now that the main entrance had been opened up, people were walking in and out. However, it was far emptier than she expected, especially for a weekend. She figured the murder must have scared people away.

 _The murder._

She knew it was a stupid idea to go check out the crime scene. But once the thought had crossed her mind, it refused to let her go. She kept her expectations low, knowing that the police probably had gathered up all the evidence. But they were still human. They were bound to overlook something.

The thrill of curiosity pulled her towards the thought of discovering something forgotten among the dead leaves.

As Barbara paused to readjust her glasses, a darkened figure appeared in the distance. It just stood there, not making any attempt to move. Not thinking anything of this, Barbara continued her walk down the cobblestone path. She figured it was probably just someone waiting for their date.

Yet, when she got closer, they seemed to move in front of her path. She wished the bulb of the nearby lantern wouldn't have fizzled out, so she could see who this person was and why their eyes were glowing.

Deciding to test out something, Barbara quickly moved to the left. They did as well. She darted back to the right and they followed suit.

Her internal alarms were ringing by now, warning her to run. But just as she was preparing to listen to them and bolt in the other direction, the figure suddenly came into the light.

"For God's sake, Richard! What were you doing?!" Barbara struggled to control the fury in her voice.

"Did I scare you?" He laughed as he came up to her. "Sorry, I thought it would be funny. And I didn't take you for someone who startled easily."

"I don't," she seethed. "But with what's been going on, how could I not be startled by some freak wanting to scare me?"

"Oh, you mean the murders?" He suddenly turned serious.

"Yes, what else?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should worry about that." He shrugged, walking by her side.

"True. So far, it's only been men that have been killed." Barbara tapped her finger against her chin. "Anyway, why did you and Jason leave abruptly yesterday?"

"We had to go. Bruce only let us come because we could only stay for a little while," he sighed, shifting his blue eyes downwards.

An awkward silence passed between them after this. Barbara glanced around at her surroundings, noticing that they were the only ones on the path now.

"So what were you doing out here?" She glanced back at the boy beside her, seeing his face buried in thought.

"I'm usually out at night. I stay around the Wayne Tower just walking around." He turned his gaze towards her. "Why were you out here so late?"

" _I am trying to get home_." She emphasized. "I'm not just out here for a stroll."

"Well, it looks like that's what we're doing." He grinned, causing her to glare at him.

She decided it was time to change the subject. "Where's your brother?"

"At the Manor."

"I hope so for yours and his sake. Because if he tries scaring me I will not be responsible for my actions." She raised her balled fist.

Richard laughed again. "You can relax then. He won't. I assure you."

As they came near the entrance, Barbara broke from their stride and went ahead of Richard. From the scarce light she could gather, she searched through the withered leaves and branches for any sort of clue.

But there were none.

"I should have brought a flashlight." She sighed, cursing herself for being so unprepared.

"Lose something?" He quipped from beside her.

"No, I'm actually looking for something. Anything. I guess the Gotham Police are better at their job than I gave them credit for." She drew back her hands from the cold ground.

Richard started to look around, narrowing his eyes as they fixated on a spot on a nearby tree. "Over here. There's some blood." He pointed.

"It's pitch black and you can see that well? I envy you," Barbara grumbled as she pushed back her glasses. "Well, not much I can do about that. I was hoping there would be something more tangible and um, sanitary." She leaned down towards the faded stain on the bark.

"Well, you did say anything," he reminded her.

The low howl of the wind interrupted any answer she had and her light sweater didn't aid much in terms of warmth. "Are you not cold?" She gazed at the boy's apparel, which consisted of typical summer attire.

He looked down at his clothes. "No?"

"No wonder your hands are so cold." She recalled that distinct feeling from last night. It was not like any cold she had experienced before. It was something much stronger, _almost dead._ The smell was also something she remembered and it was as noticeable as the night before.

Another silence passed between them, but one much longer than the first. The sounds of the city filled the air, but not even they could block out her thoughts. The smell was starting to become unbearable, its metallic scent all she could concentrate on. Deciding to forego the proper etiquette meant for ladies, she bluntly asked, "Are you sick?"

"Uh.. No. At least I don't think so." His confused eyes met her mortified ones.

"I-I thought- The smell-" She stumbled on her words, feeling her insides grow warm from embarrassment.

"Smell?" Now it was his turn to be humiliated. "Do I... smell?"

Barbara slowly nodded her head, unable to fully look at Richard. His jaw dropped, but then suddenly scrunched shut into a tight frown. His usual playful demeanor switched into one of shame and indignity.

"Look, it's not that big of a prob-" Barbara started to say.

"I have to leave now. I'm sorry, Barbara. Have a good night." Barbara watched as he stalked back into the shadows of the trees.

Barbara lowered her head in disappointment, knowing that she had offended the boy with her abrasiveness. She never usually felt bad about things like this, but this time it was all her fault. She should have remained silent like she was taught. Like she was expected to.

The remaining journey home was a lonely and quiet one.

She wasn't surprised to see that her dad still hadn't returned home. It was only 9:30 and he probably wouldn't be home for another hour or two.

Nonetheless, she wished he was waiting inside for her.

As Barbara passed by the metal trash can in front of her house, an idea struck her. She looked down at the container and lifted up the lid. It fell to the pavement with an audible clang as she shifted around inside.

Since she had thrown out the trash this morning, the newspaper should be at the top. Just as predicted, it was, albeit crumpled and slightly torn. She stared down at the main headline, already knowing that tomorrow morning would feature a similar headline with a new face.


End file.
